


P. O. U. S.

by Anonymous



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Frottage, Oral Sex, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/7293.html?thread=13172349">prompt on avengerkink:</a> <br/>"Bruce has a huge cock. I mean seriously, it's a how-did-you-fit-a-tactical-missile-in-your-pants-it's-appropriate-they-call-you-the-Hulk-because-damn-that-thing's-as-thick-as-my-forearm-how-does-blood-even-keep-circulating-to-your-brain kinda deal.</p>
<p>And Darcy's a relatively small woman. So when they first start dating, Bruce is incredibly hesitant to do anything that involves losing his pants. Then he finally drops trou and Darcy's all "I didn't know they came that big outside of porn," and Bruce is all self-conscious and "I've hurt partners before, we don't have to - " and Darcy's all "Don't be silly. Use plenty of lube and make me come until I can't feel my brain first, and I'm pretty sure we'll be good."</p>
<p>So he does. And they do. And it's fucking amazing. Bonus points if one night Darcy's too sore to take it and offers to let him fuck her tits instead.</p>
<p>But really I just want explicit fun-times with Bruce all self-conscious about his massive, massive cock."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The prompter described this phenomenon as a "Penis Of Unusual Size", which will only make sense if you've read or seen _The Princess Bride_.

No matter what you hear in the press or the tabloids, superheroes aren't as issue-free as they look. Captain America is a fun person, in spite of his losing every freaking bit of connection to a past that, for him, was only a couple of months ago. Hawkeye looks dangerous, but that's just his resting face; inside he's completely capable of pranking you and laughing his ass off the whole time.  
  
Don't get me started on Tony Stark. He's nothing but issues.  
  
Of all the bunch, you'd think that the most balanced person would be Bruce Banner. After all, the guy has to maintain or morph, right? Turns out he has issues, like anybody else, but the skills he has to manage them is nothing short of brilliant. Like a lot of stuff he does.  
  
So, a brainy, brilliant, complicated, *cough* older *cough* PhD with a shabby wardrobe and a low-key presence. And me, former poli sci major and current consultant to SHIELD, young, brassy, and fresh from the boonies of New Mexico. A match not made in heaven, it would seem.  
  
Guess neither of us got that memo. We would have laughed our own asses off, eventually.  
  
*  
  
Actually, we were laughing, at some interview Tony had done where he flirted outrageously with the (male) reporter and then solemnly swore that he and Pepper were Soul Mates Forever and that they were going to get married one of these days. I've never seen a guy get his hopes up so high, so fast, as that interviewer. I only hope nothing else got up that high and that fast while they were flirting.  
  
"And he came back to the Tower all businesslike and demure," Bruce was saying to me, "but when the interview aired the following night, Pepper was calling everyone's phone to find Tony. She was in Paris and he'd turned his phone off and gone to ground somewhere - even JARVIS couldn't say where he'd gone."  
  
I let out a last guffaw and rubbed my teary-from-giggling eyes, and the next thing I know Bruce must have spotted his chance, because he threw an arm around my shoulders and planted his mouth on mine.  
  
Wow. I mean, wow. The man's lips look so soft, but when they're having their way with mine - well, complete surrender is the only option. Happily I surrendered and let him storm the castle, which is to say he got past the gate and started marauding the inside of my mouth. He tried to retreat once and I got my hand on the back of his head and indicated my total willingness to continue.  
  
Endless minutes later, he was giving me puppy dog eyes that put to shame anything Tony Stark had ever conjured up.  
  
"Is that okay?" he said, but he looked like he wanted to do more of it whether it was or not.  
  
"Yes," I said firmly. "Very okay. More than okay."  
  
He smiled that crooked little smile of his and said, "Tell me if it becomes not okay."  
  
I didn't have a chance to say, "Okay," because once again the tide of his tongue was rising in my mouth and I was sinking. (Sometimes the romance novel cliches are actually appropriate.)  
  
When I had a chance, I said, "So, you don't need air to live, is that it?"  
  
He laughed and gave me a squeeze with the arm around my shoulders.  
  
"Not when you're around."  
  
I showed my approval of his answer by diving in for more osculation.  
  
*  
  
Things progressed from there. Not rapidly, because I like a man with a slow hand (sometimes the song cliches work, too) and that seemed to suit Bruce just fine. Mostly we made out on the couch in the common area; I've found this to be a good strategy for keeping your date's hands out of your clothes, because anyone could walk in any time.  
  
(Though I can't imagine anybody objecting to Bruce getting some action; the dude got nowhere near the attention from the fangirls that the other guys did.)  
  
Fortunately, that didn't stop us from fondling each other over our clothes. Bruce's tend to be so rumpled that no one could tell he'd been groped, and as for me, well, I usually remembered to dress loose and casual for nights when I dropped in at the Tower.  
  
Bruce would settle in kissing me and then deploy his hands as thoroughly as possible, while I generally sat back (or hung on) and let myself be ravished. I tried a couple of times to shove him over on the couch, planning to climb on him, but it wasn't much of an effort and when he asked if I wanted him to stop, I left off shoving and pulled him back in for more.  
  
So it progressed, from hands on top of clothes above the waist, then below the waist, then full-length hugging and grinding. That's not all we did - I mean, we had dinner and talked and drank and hung out on movie nights with the rest of the gang.  
  
Then there came the night I arrived directly from an academic interview. I was wearing something cream-colored that fit really well (my paycheck had enabled me to buy custom clothing, at last) and yes, it did allow for some fleeting glimpses of bra lace.  
  
We didn't have any set plans that evening; it was movie night but I didn't know what was showing in the main lounge. I never did find out. Bruce took one look at me, glanced at the door to the common area, grabbed my hand and started hustling me down the hall.  
  
He had rooms a couple of floors up; we caught the elevator at the end of the hall and I giggled the whole ride up. Bruce just kept looking at me like he wanted to swallow me whole and make sure I enjoyed the experience.  
  
Once we were inside with the door locked, I dropped my purse right where I was standing, which happened to be against the wall next to the door, and kicked off my shoes so my lips were only slightly lower than Bruce's.  
  
He came over and instead of plastering me against the wall and fucking me silly, he just put his hands on my hips and looked in my eyes and said, "Are you ready for more?"  
  
I knew what he meant. Not "more of the same" but "more than we've been doing".  
  
I nodded and said, "Yes, I am," just for good measure.   
  
"Do you have any ground rules?" he asked.  
  
"You mean, like, no bondage or watersports? Well, actually, not many rules. No scat or watersports, no biting or scratching, please, bondage would be excellent as long as it's you tying me up, and I'd be happy to swallow, except that I hear your emissions would be, um, dangerous."  
  
Bruce nodded. He didn't look at all fazed, which was a point in his favor; most people find me a little overwhelming when I get excited.  
  
"I always use a condom," he said. "And I'm not into any of those things, either, although I've never tried bondage and I would love to tie you up."  
  
"Well, all righty then!" I said. I couldn't help feeling a big grin coming on. I expected him to grab me then and proceed as previously anticipated - but he leaned in and gave me a kiss, and then started to just - touch me.  
  
I swear, that was hotter than any necking I've ever done. He used his fingertips and his tongue, from my forehead all the way down to my cleavage and back up to my mouth. I was shivering like crazy and he took my hand and led me to his couch and sat me down. When I tried to unbutton his shirt he just said, "Shh, let me," and unzipped my dress and touched me some more while it slid down around my waist.  
  
He did let me shimmy out of the dress and peel off my stockings, so I was in my bra and panties while he was still fully dressed. Now we were kissing and fondling again, his hands on my skin and mine rummaging under his shirt and down the back of his pants.  
  
At one point I think I actually whimpered. I wanted his skin, all of it, his tanned, hairy body, his compact little ass, and whatever weaponry he was sporting under those baggy pants. I turned getting his shirt off into a game which I, of course, won by just pulling it over his head instead of unbuttoning it.   
  
When I ran my hands over his chest and the back of his neck he kind of shuddered and pulled me over so I was straddling his lap. That put his face at a level with my boobs, and he got extra points for spending time kissing my mouth before getting to know my mammaries.  
  
Eventually I couldn't stand it any more and I reached down to unclasp the bra (underwires usually fasten in front, just a tip, guys) and let go of it, let it slide off my arms, and threw my shoulders back to put the girls on their best display.  
  
Bruce gazed at me almost reverently. Then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down against his chest and that silky hair of his met my nipples and I was halfway to coming and we both still had pants on. Sort of.   
  
I went for the fastening on his and he went back to countering my move, gently but firmly, so I sat up and pouted and folded my arms under my boobs. Bruce laughed and totally distracted me by demonstrating his appreciation for my admittedly stunning rack. With his tongue. And the fingertips that I mentioned.  
  
I was rocking back and forth on his lap and grabbing at his hair, his mouth on my tits and his hands on my almost-bare ass, when he shifted and stood up and slung me over his shoulder. I was torn between indignation at the abandonment of my erogenous zone and amazement at his strength and balance.  
  
We got to his bed before I made up my mind and he spread me out like a picnic and licked and nosed everywhere. He even landed some kisses down the crack of my ass and I made a fuzzy mental note to inquire as to his opinion on anal play.  
  
He came back up to kiss me and I noticed something was amiss.  
  
"You're overdressed for this party," I told him and took a firm hold on his belt loops.   
  
"So are you." He grinned and yanked on the elastic of my panties. I smacked the back of his hand and he tweaked my nipple, so I let go of his pants, but before I could grab anything else he'd slid down the bed - still with the damn pants on! - taking my panties with him and settling his mouth between my legs.  
  
I decided that Bruce Banner's tongue was a deadly implement of torture. I wanted to volunteer for testing on that theory. Especially if it involved tying me down...  
  
But I digress. Bruce lapped and flicked and fingered and nuzzled me through multiple orgasms (screaming ones; I have it on good authority that the bedrooms in the Tower are sound-proofed), until I reched down to pinch his nose shut so he'd have to come up for air.  
  
He looked up at me with a grin that reminded me of Hulk. I hastily shelved that thought along with the rest of the Things I Want To Try Some Day.  
  
"Time's up," I said, breathlessly. "Take 'em off, doc. I want to see what I'm getting into, here."  
  
"Shouldn't that be my line?"  
  
"Don't be coy. And don't make me beg. You wouldn't like me when I beg."  
  
I sat up and folded my legs as he slid off the bed and stood up. I've never seen anyone so reluctant to drop his pants. I knew he didn't have anything to be ashamed of, due to my previous lap grinding. He looked almost embarrassed as he unbuttoned and unzipped and very, very slowly let his pants slide down his hips.  
  
It would have made a tantalizing strip tease if I'd been able to look anywhere other than his crotch. I confess: I stared. I was at a loss for words, for the first time in recorded history.  
  
Bruce stood there patiently for a minute or so. Then he spoke up.  
  
"You know all those porn movies and erotica where the woman is screaming, oh my God, it's too big, it'll never fit?"  
  
I tore my eyes away from the phenomenon that was his penis and stared at his face.  
  
"It's nowhere near as hot in real life," he said ruefully.  
  
"I bet," I mumbled. "I bet you've heard it a few times. Not gonna hear it from me, though. Holy hotcakes."  
  
I went back to staring at his manhood. Actually, it was more like men-hoods, plural. If this was Bruce's schlong I couldn't begin to imagine how big Hulk's might be. (Once again....had to shelve that idea.)  
  
"It's gorgeous," I said. "It's - monumental. No wonder you wear baggy pants."  
  
I looked up again and he was blushing. Blushing! I made Bruce Banner, brilliant physicist and Avenger, blush. It was a pleased kind of blush, though, and he crawled up on the bed and lay down beside me.  
  
"Seriously, Bruce, how do you even walk? Even when it isn't hard it must be a handful. Two handfuls. It's like when they do the hand over hand thing to decide which team gets to bat first."  
  
"Okay, okay." He was looking amused and slightly annoyed. His dick was looking bigger than ever; obviously it had a healthier ego than Bruce's noggin.  
  
"So," I said brightly, sticking to the subject - and the organ - at hand. "How do we do this?"  
  
I put my arms around his neck and he leaned down for a kiss. In the process, of course, I felt that delicious hardness against my leg and I reached down - and I swear, for a moment I didn't think I could wrap my hand around it.  
  
I'd no sooner started closing my fingers than Bruce batted my hand away (again!). This time he rolled over to get something out of a shoebox under the bed. I couldn't resist giving his butt a squeeze (hey, it was a crime of opportunity).  
  
He came back up, still grinning, and showed me his prize, a condom packet, unmarked, made of green foil and larger than anything I'd seen in stores.  
  
"Practically bullet-proof," he remarked as he opened the packet and applied the item inside. "Special ordered from...well, a place Tony recommended."  
  
He rolled back to where he'd been when I was interrupted and I went back to getting a grip while he latched onto my mouth again. After a minute I had to disengage from his lips so I could scoot down the bed a little for an eye to eye encounter with his -   
  
"I've figured out what to call this," I said. "P. O. U. S."  
  
"I'm afraid to ask," said Bruce, sounding strained, as well he might with a beautiful woman playing with his toys.  
  
"Have you ever seen _The Princess Bride_?"  
  
"No, but I read the book, it was hilarious. Why - aha! The R. O. U. S.'s. I see." His head fell back and he chuckled. "Well, Penis of Unusual Size, that's an excellent and yet modest description. Thank you, Darcy."  
  
"Doesn't do you justice," I said with a smile. I leaned in to press a kiss to the tip of his P.O.U.S. and Bruce twitched and moaned, so I figured it was okay to proceed. I proceeded to map his dick with my mouth, as well as I could wirh the condom on.   
  
Bruce muttered encouragement and the occasional remark that I was going to kill him (in a good way), until I felt confident enough to attempt to take him in my mouth. I could just about get my lips around the head without getting my teeth involved, and I knew that sadly I would probably never be able to deep-throat him.  
  
"Darcy!" he almost yelled. I made a "huh?" kind of sound, as I didn't want to pull my mouth off him, and he shook his head and threaded his fingers through my hair and said quickly, "Don't - don't stop. It's just been - too long since anyone tried that. Holy fuck."  
  
I gave myself points for getting him to use profanity, always a sign that the gentleman is letting his guard down. Ultimately, all I could do was stuff as much of him as I could in my mouth and suck, and stroke him with my hand while my mouth watered all over his shaft.  
  
It wasn't as much fun with a condom, so eventually I looked up at Bruce, who was totally dazed and confused (yay me) and asked for lube. His eyes focused on me, more or less, and he handed me the tube and said, "What - how are you - "  
  
"Don't worry." I patted his thigh. "I'm not going to try to get you in me just yet." Not without more prep, I thought, but he'll like this. Hell, I like it.  
  
What I liked was lubing him up good and squeezing my tits together to make a nice tight fit for his dick. I rolled over on my back and tugged his hips until he was hovering over me as I lay between his knees. I had to tip my chin up to see his face, which had gone back to that nice hazy expression.  
  
"You're gorgeous," he murmured, sliding against me experimentally. I adjusted my grip on my boobs to the right angle and circumference and he started to move and it was amazing, how well we fit together.  
  
"I want to see you," I murmured as he gained momentum. "Want to watch you come...come on..."  
  
"Oh, God," he gasped. "Yes..."  
  
I was getting pounded into the mattress and I loved it; there's nothing like the feeling of someone enjoying my body as much as I do. When he came I felt like his heart was beating against me, his pulse was so strong, and he howled - he fucking *howled*. I felt like throwing my arms up in victory, but settled for wiggling happily under him.  
  
He fell over beside me and scooped me into his arms and kissed me. I was already making plans for our next round of P.O.U.S. Olympic Games. In the spirit of scientific inquiry, of course.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 of 3, because dang, this got long.
> 
> (That's what 'he' said...)

There was more making out and fingering and rubbing and even a hand job, in the following week. (Told you I liked a slow build. And yes, I did have to use both hands.) I was doing a lot of reading that swung between advice columns, forums on size kinks, and downright smut. The more I read, well, the more I wanted.  
  
"I don't love you just for your dick, you know that, right?" I said to Bruce one afternoon when we were both playing hooky (me from studying, him from the lab). He'd had some fun talking dirty in my ear while stroking me to nirvana, and then he flipped me on my stomach and slid between my butt cheeks and humped until my tailbone was sore and I fantasized that it was the other guy and that made me come, too. We were lying there dazed, trying to breathe.  
  
Bruce looked over at me, blinked, and said, "You love me?" He leaned up on an elbow and said, kind of resigned, "Or is that just a figure of speech."  
  
I thought he knew, he's a scientist, right? Shouldn't he know about the power of attraction, spontaneous combustion, all that? Okay, I know, those were just excuses. I wasn't a particle and he wasn't studying me, so I confessed.  
  
"Yes," I said, hopeful. "I mean, yes, I do love you. It's not just a figure of - "  
  
Fortunately he stopped me making more of an ass of myself by using his mouth as a stopper, and there was much, much more kissing and tonguing and fondling, during which at some point Bruce whispered in my ear, "I love you too, Darcy," and hugged me so tight that I didn't care whether I could breathe.  
  
"Come over tomorrow night," he said to me while I was getting dressed, later. "I'll make dinner."  
  
"I'll bring dessert," I promised and tasted me in his mouth when we kissed goodbye.  
  
*  
  
We did have dinner, and dessert, both of which were yummy, especially with the cook's bottomless brown bedroom eyes gazing at me across the table.  
  
After dessert there was, believe it or not, brandy. I was sitting on the sofa when Bruce handed me a glass and sat beside me with his own, both full of an unfamiliar amber liquid.  
  
"Try a sip," he said. "I'm interested to know what you think of it."  
  
"You're not trying to get me drunk, are you?" I asked. "It's not necessary, really. I'm a sure thing..."  
  
He smiled slyly as I took a sip, and the flavor and aroma and the sensation of this stuff flowing down my throat completely derailed my train of thought. I'm more or less a bargain wine or beer girl, with the occasional tequila shot for variety, but this...this was ambrosia.  
  
"You're not trying to get me drunk, are you," I said after breathing for a moment. "This is too good for mere intoxication purposes."  
  
"It's cognac. I must really like you or something," he murmured, looking pleased.   
  
"Dr. Banner, you are a class act." I toasted him and took another sip, guessing that it would take longer to feel a buzz from this than from my usual choice of libation, so I'd better pace myself.  
  
Bruce took one more drink and then set it aside and put his arms around me, kissing my neck and my face, eventually taking my glass and putting it down as well. We kissed for a long time and I fingered his soft, thick hair and stretched and sighed.   
  
"I'm melting," I whispered. "And I want you, Bruce."  
  
The feeling was obviously mutual; he scooped me up and carried me to the bed, where he proceeded to undress me, slowly, touching and tasting me the whole time. By the time I was naked, he could have made me come just from kissing my mouth.  
  
I started to unbutton his shirt, and for once he didn't stop me, but sat beside me on the bed and just watched my hands. Once I got his shirt open I sat up and pushed it off while I nuzzled his pecs and used my tongue on his nipples.  
  
I don't know whether it's because he's so aware of his body, or just because he's sensitive overall, but he leaned into my hands and mouth and groaned softly, his hands in my hair now. I gave him a gentle push and he lay back while I lay down beside him and guided his head to my breast. HIs mouth was soft and hot and made me flare up like a firework in no time.  
  
I was squirming against his mouth, panting, when I felt his hand slip down along my side, tugging my leg over his and curling his fingers around my thigh to find my pussy, dipping inside and bringing wet fingertips to slide right up against my clit. He held it there while I bucked and yelled and clutched at his hair, his tongue still working my tits, bringing me off again and again with his fingers and then pushing me over so he could shimmy down and plant his mouth between my legs.  
  
At one point Bruce had lifted my thighs to spread me wider, to lap at more skin, and he pushed his fingers inside me, deep, deep, pulling them out slick and pushing them back in again, slowly, firmly, circling to find the best places to torment me. Places I hadn't discovered yet, myself, and something he did made me slam up against his hand and mouth and come so hard that I felt something spilling out of me.  
  
"What the *fuck* is that?" I managed to gasp. Bruce just hummed into my pussy and did it again and I felt it again, I couldn't help it and I didn't care as long as he kept it coming.  
  
When my bones had turned completely to rubber, I lay limp as Bruce came up to catch his breath.  
  
"Never," I said fervently. "Never, ever, have I ever felt it like that. What the hell, Bruce."  
  
"You're a squirter," he grinned. "You've never heard of female ejaculation?"  
  
I shook my head. "But just watching you form the word 'ejaculation' is making me so hot," I told him. "Sex science. Who knew." At his sly look I added, "Well, you knew, of course. I am the luckiest woman on the face of the earth."  
  
Somehow his smug expression faded just a little.  
  
"What?" I took his hand as he sat up.   
  
"Nothing," he said and kissed my hand. "I love making you feel that way. I never want to stop making you feel that way."  
  
"And you think...what? That I'm going to feel differently after you've ravished me?" I sat up now and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Not gonna happen. I love you, every bit of your delicious, crazy smart self, and we're going to be fine."  
  
A smile tugged at his mouth, but he said, "Promise me you'll stop me if - "  
  
"I promise," I interrupted before he could get any more anxious. "But I won't need to."  
  
I lay back and ran my hands down, over my boobs, laying my palms on my thighs and spreading myself for his perusal.  
  
"Bring it on, big guy," I said.


	3. Chapter 3

I decided that talking was not going to help in this situation. Nothing I said was going to reassure Bruce that a., this was completely doable, b., I wouldn't let him hurt me, and c., I really really wanted him to nail me with that monster.  
  
Instead of talking, I applied myself to other means of persuasion, i.e., showing Bruce just how ready I was and how much I wanted him. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking kind of mesmerized, while I lay back and touched myself. Dipping my fingers into the wetness between my legs, I brought them up to rub my juices on my nipples. I felt warm and soft and messy and I still wasn't done. Not with myself, or with him.  
  
Reaching under the bed, I found the familiar shoebox and retrieved the big tube of lube and one of the P.O.U.S.-type condoms. When I lay back again I was very pleased to see that Bruce had stood up, moving closer to my head, and unfastened his pants. He took my hand and placed it on his fly, and I pulled it open and pushed his pants down.  
  
Every time he got naked he looked - embarrassed, I guess, always angling his body so his penis wasn't in full view, like he could hide it. Like he thought it would act on its own, well, more than penises usually do, and poke me in the eye or something. This time he seemed to be making an effort to lose his self-consciousness. I didn't want to mess up by cracking a joke, so I refrained (this time!).  
  
"May I do the honors?" I asked, and he nodded.  
  
Taking his shaft in one hand, with the other I rolled on the condom, then opened the lube. Bruce's hand came to rest on my shoulder and he breathed deeply while I got my hands positively dripping with the slick stuff.  
  
"Hang on," he said suddenly. His hand came down to grip the base of his cock, holding off the inevitable for now. I waited a minute and then reached to cup his balls in my hands, getting them nice and slippery, going back for more lube and spreading it over his shaft and head.  
  
"Come on," I whispered. "Come here, baby."  
  
Bruce climbed up on the bed, but instead of getting down to - well, getting down, he took the lube and applied it generously to my pussy, taking a moment or two to tease me in the process, fingers brushing over my clit and nudging inside me just short of that spot that had made me explode.  
  
"Bruce," I whined. "If you use any more of that, I'm gonna slide right off the bed. You'll never make it in - "  
  
That made him laugh out loud. He came up over me and kissed me hard.  
  
"Do you want to be on top?" he murmured.  
  
"Nope. Next time, maybe. I like to watch you work."  
  
I didn't have to worry about him backing out at the last second; the only expression on his face was a kind of wicked, promising grin. He leaned on one hand and got hold of his dick with the other and started rubbing the tip over my entrance.  
  
When he pushed, just a little bit, I shifted and raised one leg, trying to open as wide as possible, and he got the head in and braced his other arm on the bed and just - held there. I tried to move against him, and he didn't stop me, but he didn't push in any further, either.  
  
"Shh," he said, when I opened my mouth to lodge a complaint. "I know what I'm doing."  
  
Mentally I slapped myself. Of course, that intimate awareness of his own body and his growing knowledge of mine made him a fantastic lover no matter what size he'd been endowed with.  
  
"Trust me," he said, and I nodded and let myself relax.  
  
I'd estimated Bruce's circumference and length days before, after getting a good look at it. Turns out I was a lousy guesser. The food item I'd experimented with had not done justice to his girth, and when he pressed in, slowly, another inch or so, it made for a hot, slick stretch, a tingling burn where our bodies joined, working muscles I didn't know I had.  
  
"Darcy - "  
  
I raised my eyes to his; he looked a little worried.  
  
"Slow your breathing," he said. "You're hyperventilating. I don't want you to pass out and miss all the fun."  
  
He was right, of course; whether from anticipation or lust, I was sucking in way too much air. I took a moment to catch my breath while Bruce took a moment to treat his tongue to a taste of my skin. When he latched on to a nipple and sucked, my hips jerked involuntarily, and I realized he'd worked his way further in without me noticing. Much.  
  
Now Bruce was panting, probably from trying to hold back.  
  
"Go ahead," I told him. "Do it, just shove it all the way in - "  
  
He shook his head. "Slow is better. Trust me. Fast, next time, maybe."  
  
"Mmm, next time," I said in his ear. "That sounds good. Next time, when I'm on top and I can tease you, and you can watch my tits bounce and grab my ass while you fuck up into me..."  
  
"Darcy..." he groaned, not a protest but a plea. My knees were folded up almost to my shoulders; I wished I could see how good it looked, his thick tool sinking into my body. I added a mental note to find a mirror for next time.  
  
"How much more?" I asked. I was so full already; had i underestimated his length, too? Apparently not (whew); he pressed forward steadily until I felt his balls against my butt and his hair tickling my thighs, and thankfully he hadn't gotten in far enough to bump my cervix. (For the record, guys, don't. Ow.)  
  
"You okay?" he said, but he looked less worried.  
  
"Fuck yeah," I replied. "One thing I can say about you, Bruce Banner - there's more to you than meets the eye..."  
  
He laughed breathlessly and the motion made him move inside me and I shuddered.  
  
"It's good, it's so good," I said. "Pull out, just a little, let me get used to - oh, fuck!"  
  
The slow drag on the way out made my skin shift and my clit rub against him. I felt a climax building and grabbed my knees and babbled.  
  
"Please, Bruce - please, I'm gonna come, do it, go, now..."  
  
His eyes closed, his hips moved, under my heels his ass clenched and he slid back in, a little easier but just as hard and thick and full. I thanked the gods of lubricant, without whom this mind-blowing event would not have been enjoyable, or even possible.  
  
Bruce was finding the right angle and building speed and thrust, but I could still feel him holding back, so I got a grip on his hair, he opened his eyes and I said, clearly, "Don't, don't hold back, baby. I can take it, you know I can, do it *hard*."  
  
I think that knocked over the last of his reserve, because he lowered his head like a bull and went to town and I came almost right away. From then on it was hard and fast and noisy, from the slurpy sound of sliding skin to the guttural sounds coming from both our lungs.  
  
When Bruce let go, he let out a growly kind of cry and slapped his hips into mine and held them there. I swear I could feel every inch of his dick jerking inside me, like one of those expanding dildos (which I really should invest in, I thought giddily). I wrapped myself around him, as tightly as I could, and crooned and stroked his neck while we both came down from fucking Shangri-La.

*

The next day, on my way to the conference room, I saw Tony Stark in the hallway. I guess my poker face still sucks, because his eyes widened and then he smirked.

"Pulled a muscle, Lewis?" he said in a low voice. "You should get Bruce to teach you some yoga."

I tossed my head and as I went into the conference room, I said over my shoulder, "Oh, I'm learning a lot from him, all right. You could say he's been...expanding my universe."


End file.
